


Always Been You

by thatsoccercoach



Series: Which Door? [56]
Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Da Jamie, family support
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-29
Updated: 2018-08-29
Packaged: 2019-07-04 00:34:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15830124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatsoccercoach/pseuds/thatsoccercoach
Summary: Jamie and Claire face a challenging situation with their baby, Faith.





	Always Been You

                                                          

He was about to turn the key in the lock when the front door swung open to reveal a disheveled Claire and even more bedraggled looking baby. Jamie sighed, feeling the edges of guilt creep up. He loved his job and his ability to support his lasses, but there were times when it felt wrong to leave all of this to Claire and expect that she just deal with it.

Claire saw it and knew. She’d never say a thing unless it was to cheer him on or reassure him that he was doing what was necessary for their little family. It didn’t mean things were easy though.

“I’m just glad you’re home,” she whispered to him, holding out her free hand for him to clasp.

Faith fidgeted listlessly and whimpered. Her light brown curls stuck to her forehead and she had two fingers in her mouth in addition to a pouty lip protruding. Claire pushed their daughter into his arms and Faith began to fuss before settling, whining still and gumming his shoulder with her three _very sharp_ , new teeth. He shifted her to get a better grip and escape the biting. _Christ, the wee thing was burning up!_

“I _know_ ,” Claire replied, shoving mad curls away from her face and discerning his thoughts without him ever giving them voice. “She sick again. Three days she’s had this fever, even with a dose of acetaminophen. I’ve given up with the solid foods because she just spits it all back up and she seems to keep more down without them. But she can hardly breathe through her nose either, so basically it’s just a few swallows at a time.”

Dark circles ringed his wife’s eyes and her freckles stood out, a sharp contrast to her pale skin.

“You can guess how easy _that_ is to deal with,” she huffed. “I feel as if I haven’t set her down for days.”

“Have ye slept, Sassenach?” he spoke his first words since walking in the door that he’d kicked shut behind him.

“Not much,” she faltered. “Not in a while. It’s just that she has that croupy, wheezy cough and it gets worse every time I lay her down so,” she shrugged, “I just don’t.”

He reached out an arm to her and pulled her close, feeling her melt into him. Jamie buried his nose in her hair just as he’d always loved doing. “Go to bed,” he demanded gently, kissing her. “Yer a good mother, Claire. But it doesna do any good if you canna stay awake.”

He sent her to bed then took Faith to the shower with him. He needed a shower after that shift at work and she needed the steam.

Claire was right, Faith clung, though listlessly. She whimpered but never really cried. And she was feverish in spite of having taken a dose of medicine that should have addressed that concern.

He held her close as he walked to their living room. Beside their rocking chair sat the waste paper basket filled with tissues. On the arm of the chair balanced the blue bulb suction and he blanched.

For a firefighter who clearly had an extravagant amount of medical training, the sight of his own child’s snot could nearly make him gag, yet there on Faith’s upper lip was what Claire called _(just to irritate him_ , he was sure) a “snot snake” running down. He quickly looked aside, grabbing for a tissue, and swiped at it, tossing it away.

There was a laundry basket overflowing with clean cloths that he assumed had been dirtied then laundered when Faith had spit up so many times. A couple of soft blankets hung off the back of the rocking chair too and Jamie could picture in his mind’s eye his wife nursing their daughter there as she so often did. He sat a while and rocked their baby girl.

_Ah dhia, but she was hot!_ As much as he didn’t want to wake Claire after such a short time, he couldn’t tell if he was just overdramatizing things or if the wee thing _was_ actually warmer and breathing faster now. He stalked purposefully to their bedroom, Faith nestled in his grip.

_“Sassenach?”_ he whispered while stroking the hair away from her face. “I’m sorry, I didna want to wake you but I need you.”

She slowly sat up looking like nothing more than a dandelion gone to seed with curls sprouting everywhere. “S’alright,” she slurred, holding her arms out for Faith.

“I dinna ken fer sure, but she seems to be breathing faster and her temp is higher in spite of everything.” His brow was wrinkled as he released the tiny, hot body.

“Will you grab me my stethoscope?” She gestured to the bedside table on his side. She _must_ have been worried. Her stethoscope hadn’t been out since she went on leave when Faith was born ten months ago.

She warmed the diaphragm of the stethoscope before placing it against their daughters silky soft baby skin, she listened intently, her smooth brow wrinkling with deep furrows.

“What is it, Claire?” he asked, concerned.

“I don’t know. I think we ought to take her in though, Jamie.” She rubbed her face tiredly as if she couldn’t possibly make any more decisions about this. “I could be overreacting, but I just don’t want to chance anything.”

“If ye are wondering about it, we’ll just do it. No doubt you’re right and we ought to have her checked.” Though his wife might sometimes question her own judgment, he certainly did not. Claire knew what she was doing and she knew their child and her needs. He went to get their coats and to ready the car.

* * *

He wanted to erase every doubt and every sorrow for his wife. She stood now, pressed against his chest and wrapped in his arms crying silently.

“She’s fine now, Sassenach. Ye ken as well as I that our Faith was born _just_ that wee bit too early for her lungs to be very strong. She’s just too fragile to fight off RSV on her own. Just an overnight stay here at the hospital and she’ll be well once more.” He attempted to reassure her, stroking her back, holding her tight.

“I feel as if I fail her at every turn,” her shoulders drooped. “I couldn’t carry her to term and now she has to contend with all the complications of that, maybe for her whole life, Jamie!”

He leaned away from her just enough to tilt her chin, making sure they made eye contact. “Of all the mothers in the world, Faith has you. Yer her mam because she needs you. Only you. Ye ken when she’s cryin’ because she’s hungry or tired or sick. When she’s awake at night, ye are tender and patient wi’ her, knowing that she needs only you. She gets sick, aye, but ye care for her and ye always know when to ask for help for her. Claire, ye are the perfect mother for our bairn, aye?”

“How can you know that?” she murmured against him.

“Ye’ve always been the answer. To everything in my life and now in Faith’s. It has always been you, Claire.”


End file.
